


Who Says Laughter Is The Best Medicine

by MissMouse1421



Series: Cockles Collection [1]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Based on True Events, Bisexual Jensen Ackles, Bisexual Misha Collins, Blow Jobs, Bottom Misha Collins, Cockles, Complicated Relationships, Depressed Misha, Emotional Hurt, Gay Sex, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Light Angst, Love Confessions, Love Triangles, M/M, Making Love, Mugging, Not So Established Relationship, One Shot, Relationship Problems, Salute to Supernatural Minneapolis Convention, Secret Relationship, Smut, Spit As Lube, Top Jensen Ackles, Worried Jensen, mention of first time, mentions of cheating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-03 00:39:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5270024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMouse1421/pseuds/MissMouse1421
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Misha was mugged after leaving a restaurant in Minneapolis while in town for a convention. Jensen flies to the rescue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who Says Laughter Is The Best Medicine

**Author's Note:**

> As you all probably know, poor Misha had a rough time at MinnCon this year and this is my way of coping with it. I mean no disrespect to their families. I'm just Cockles trash.
> 
> (I apologize in advance if I have any facts wrong. I'm not a COMPLETE stalker.)

_Pushing, falling, pain, laughing, hands, grabbing, taking._

_Pain._

_Laughing._

_Tears._

_**Pain.** _

* * *

 

Misha awoke with a start, completed with the cliché jolting up into a sitting position, chest pumping and sweat beading across his forehead. The newly 41 year old ran a hand through his hair and let out a quiet sigh into the dark hotel room.

Of _course_. He was finally able to get some sleep after hours of sitting in the hospital waiting room, only to be disturbed by a nightmare reminding him of the events that took place that evening. Misha couldn't help but chuckle bitterly at his bad luck.

This was definitely not how he had planned on spending his weekend.

Misha had really been looking forward to this convention in Minneapolis. Energies were high and he had been thrilled to participate in the excitement. Unfortunately for him, a stupid mistake had left him feeling ashamed, embarrassed and physically and mentally drained. Twitter had confirmed that everyone and their mother had already found out about the mugging. Unbeknownst to the fans, what was going on in their imaginations was actually a lot worse than what had actually happened. He hadn't been beaten in an ally way and left for dead by three punks. He had been followed out of a restaurant, pushed from behind, causing him to fall and split his lip on the sidewalk, and then everything on his person had been stolen... The only accuracy to the rumors was the amount of assailants that had tailed him and that they had taken all of his belongings.

Misha absentmindedly rubbed at his now bare fingers. They were covered in small scratches that were now starting to scab over and itch.

Was it silly that the only thing he was really broken up about losing was his rings?

Those jerks had taken his wallet, phone, even the original key to his hotel room. (He had to ask the front desk for an extra one when he got back to the hotel.) But none of that even compared to the loss Misha felt after the rings had been ripped off his fingers. He had put up a bit of a fight then. Well, he had made a grab for the rings, at least. Misha was smart enough to realize that he was completely out numbered and could have very easily been taken down if he decided to start a fight. The movement was completely by accident, an immediate impulse to save the objects he treasured most, but all that had earned him was a sharp kick back onto the concrete.

The first ring had been his wedding ring. Vicki had made him that ring almost 20 years ago and Misha hadn't taken it off since. Even if they weren't as close as they used to be, Misha knew how much time, money and love had been put into making that ring. It made his heart ache to think it was gone forever, but Misha was absolutely devastated about losing the other one.

Jensen had given him the other ring after the first night they had slept together. Things at home had been spiraling for awhile and on that particular day Misha had decided he needed one night to just let go. All he wanted was to feel something other than the anger and misery he had been feeling for the last couple of months. Jensen had stopped by for a visit hoping to sit down and help his friend work out some of his issues, and then hopefully help him find some kind of a solution. Uncharacteristically, Misha had gone into great detail with Jensen about his problems at home. On stage Misha had a bad habit of sharing personal details about his life, mostly because of the pressure he felt to give everyone a good time and make them laugh, even if it was at his own expense. But off stage, Misha was actually very reserved when it came to his personal life. He almost never spoke about his problems. Even when Jared and Jensen had noticed their co-worker acting strange and asked him about it, Misha would play it off, usually with a joke, and that would be it. In a sense, it was a bit of a relief to Jensen that Misha was finally opening up. It wasn't healthy to keep all those emotions bottled up inside, and if Misha was finally willing to vent to someone, Jensen was more than happy to listen.

He had absolutely no idea what Misha's intentions were that night when he walked through the door, a bag full of junk food and a 6 pack of beer held tightly in his grasp. Misha himself didn't know what he wanted until he had actually pulled Jensen by the collar and kissed him. After a long soulful stare that revealed just how desperate Misha really was, Jensen recuperated Misha's enthusiasm and soon the two of them were unclothed and rolling around under the sheets.

Misha had woken up the next day at about noon to an empty apartment and found a small box sitting on the end of his bed. A note was attached to the box with only three words written on it in perfect cursive.

 _Always Keep Fighting_.

Inside the box was a simple silver band with the letter's M+J engraved on the inside of the ring. Simple, subtle, and so totally Jensen. It was supposed to be a symbol of their friendship. A promise that no matter what happened in Misha's personal life, Jensen would always be there for him.

Losing that ring had left Misha feeling vulnerable. For some reason it felt as if Misha had lost that bond he had held so close to his heart when the ring had been stolen. It was stupid, he knew that. Jensen wouldn't just disappear because the ring had been stolen. But Misha didn't feel as close to him anymore. He felt lonely, and for the first time that night, Misha wished he wasn't alone to wallow in self pity.

The brunette let out another uneasy sigh as the corner of his eyes pricked with unshed tears. Misha hadn't cried- really cried- for a good 4 years. He shed a few tears when Vicki had mentioned getting a divorce, but he never wanted to break down sobbing. That is until tonight. Tonight, Misha was tempted to just give into his emotions and let whatever happens happen. What was the point in trying to hold back anymore? No one was there to see him breakdown anyway.

Just as Misha was about to lose all self control, a rustling sound came from one of the couches on the other side of the room. Misha immediately made a fist and braced himself for a fight. Maybe those dicks had decided to use his hotel key after all.

Man, he just couldn't catch a break.

"Who's there?" Misha growled into the dark. A figure of a man jumped to his feet as if he was startled by Misha's outburst. "Shit, sorry. I didn't mean to- I mean I didn't think... This was a bad idea. Hang on." Shuffling was heard and then the bed side table lamp flicked on and filled the room with a gentle orange glow. Misha immediately relaxed when Jensen's worried green eyes met his own. "There we go. Better?" Misha nodded tentatively as he pulled himself up into a sitting position. "I didn't mean to scare you. I just didn't wanna wake you. But I guess that doesn't matter anymore..."

"What are you doing here?" Misha asked in mild curiosity. "I caught an earlier flight after I heard what happened. I was worried about you..." Misha averted his gaze as Jensen very obviously inspected the damage on his face. "Jesus, Mish." Jensen walked over and gently grabbed the brunette's chin, lifting his face towards the light so he could inspect the wounds.

Misha's split lip was the most troubling and looked to be the most painful. The left side of his face was also red and swollen. "Those pricks.” Jensen growled with a fire that sparked in his eyes. "If I had been there I would have ripped those assholes apart," and he meant it too. Contrary to popular belief, Jensen wasn't as scary as he portrayed himself to be. At his core he was just a big teddy bear. Jensen didn't believe in violence to solve his problems. Of course he saw the irony of playing a character on one of the most violent TV shows on the CW, but that's all it was.

A _fictional_ show.

This was real life, and in real life, Jensen wasn't a hateful person. At least, he tried his best not to be, but tonight when he caught wind of what had happened to Misha, Jensen saw red. People could screw with Jensen all they wanted and would probably still walk away scott free, (if he was in a good mood,) but when people start fucking with the ones he cares most about, that's crossing a line.

"And that would accomplish what, exactly?" Misha asked sarcastically before carefully pulling out of Jensen's hold as to not hurt himself further. He then wrapped his arms around his pajama covered legs and pulled his knees up against his chest tightly. It was dumb, but the new position somehow made him feel more comfortable, protected.

Misha held a bitter smile on his face which only confirmed what Jensen had been thinking while on his flight over here. "You're hurt," Jensen stated plainly, matter of factly, like it wasn't a question. Misha made a face like Jensen had said the stupidest thing he had ever heard before pointing at his stitched lip. "No shit," he said with his usual sass. Jensen calmly shook his head. "That's not what I meant and you know it.” His voice wasn't harsh and accusing, but gentle and patient.

Jensen stared at Misha with those intruding emerald green eyes for a long while. It was the kind of look that saw past all the bullshit and brick walls that Misha was trying to put up. The kind of look that was so intense, Misha felt like he should look away for fear of exposing his deepest darkest thoughts to the man in front of him. Jensen continued to hold his gaze steadily with unwavering determination. After a minute of this, Misha let out a defeated sigh before shifting his gaze to his lap, tracing the dull patterns on the blankets with his fingers before speaking. "I try so damn hard..." Jensen quietly sat down next to Misha on the bed as the brunette continued to speak in a soft voice. "I thought GISHWISH was the start of something great, you know? And Random Acts. We were going to change the world one random act of kindness at a time. I thought we could make a difference... But then something like this happens and I'm forced to realize, once again, that no matter what I do there are always going to be people out there who can't make that change. Or even want to..."

Jensen listened intently as Misha looked up at him through hooded eyelids, the night’s troubles weighing heavy on his shoulders. "I keep trying to see the good in people. I-I want to believe that there is a little bit of good in all of us. But today... I just- I'm just so tired. It's exhausting, Jensen, having this blind, irrational faith in humanity. For the first time in a long time, I wanted to give up. I... I didn't see the point in trying anymore..." Misha hung his head, ashamed as he confessed his true feelings to his best friend. Misha never let anyone see his insecurities up close and in person. He couldn't stand the idea of people seeing him weak and vulnerable. But if anyone was going to see him like this, Misha decided, there was no better person than Jensen. The most patient and understanding man Misha had ever met.

"I know it's ridiculous to think like that after one bad thing happened to me. Other people have got it way worse than I do and things could have gone a lot differently for me tonight. I was really lucky to get away with only a few stitches and bruises, but I just feel..." Misha shrugged with a helpless look on his face as Jensen smiled, sympathetic to his troubles. "Tired?" Jensen finished for him. Misha nodded curtly. "Mish, come on. I think you've been beaten up enough tonight without adding insult to injury with your own self-criticism." Jensen scooted up to lean his back against the base board, giving Misha little choice other than to move over and share his pillows. "You of all people should know the world isn't perfect. There's always going to be a couple of pricks who try to get in your way and stop you from reaching your goals." Misha looked up as Jensen wrapped his arm around Misha's shoulders and pulled him close to his chest. "But you can't let things like this get under your skin. You can't give up. You're a real inspiration to a lot of people. The fans look up to you. What you're doing with all your charity work is amazing, and whether you want to believe it or not, you really can make a difference, Mish. You already have... Don't let a couple of low lives change what we love most about you."

"And what's that?" Misha inquired playfully. Jensen's lips quirked into a smile before he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss into Misha's hairline. "Your belief that a world filled with so much injustice can still hold so much promise."

"You mean my naive optimism that stems from a shitty childhood?" Jensen's chuckle rumbled in his chest sending gentle vibrations through Misha's cheek. Misha rested his head on Jensen's shoulder and let out a quiet sigh as he cuddled closer to the man beside him and let his words sink in. Misha knew he was just going through one of his episodes of self doubt, in the morning he'd probably have a completely different outlook on the whole situation. But right now, Jensen's words were exactly what he needed to hear. He may not believe them, but just hearing that deep, familiar voice whispering softly down to him was enough to make him melt into the other's embrace.

"They took my rings..." Misha mumbled dejectedly after a few minutes of comfortable silence. Misha felt Jensen carefully nod against his head. The action was calculated, almost like he was trying to hide what he was really thinking. Either that or he was just trying not to hurt the other man by making any sudden movements. "You can get mad if you want," Misha offered half heartedly when Jensen didn't respond. "Really, I don't mind. Nothing could possibly make me feel worse about it than I already do."

"I'm not mad," Jensen's answer was almost instantaneous. Even though the action was moot because his face was still buried into the younger man’s shirt, hidden from view, Misha raised an eyebrow skeptically at his words. "You're not?"

"Of course not. You're okay. You're still breathing. How could I possibly be mad?" Jensen's muscular arms suddenly encircled the man against him. The movement itself was slow and careful, but once he had Misha wrapped up in his arms he increased the pressure ever so slightly, squeezing the older man in a warm, secure hug. "You really had me scared there for a minute..." Jensen whispered as he let his head fall into the crook of Misha's neck. Misha felt Jensen's shuttering intake of air against the sensitive patch of skin bellow his ear. "When I heard what happened, I thought..." Jensen buried his face farther into the brunette's neck and let the rest of his sentence go unfinished, afraid of what the words might do to him if he were to continue.

Jensen's confession tugged at Misha's heart strings in a way that made him feel guilty for not calling the younger man and letting him know he was okay as soon as he got out of the hospital. Or at least that he was still alive. Jensen was fiercely protective of anyone who managed to get under his skin and make him care about them. Of course he must have been worried, probably more so than Misha himself.

Misha managed to maneuver his body around and straddled Jensen's lap so he could face him properly. No longer being able to hide his face, Misha could now see the concerned crease in Jensen's forehead and the tired bags under his eyes from worrying. Misha offered him a sort of sad smile before leaning in and gently (very gently, his lips were still tender from the stitches,) kissing him on the forehead. "Sorry to disappoint you, sweetheart, but I'm still here." Jensen's eyes shimmered in the dim lighting as he locked eyes with the blue eyed man who was now wrapping his arms around his neck. "I'm still here..." Misha whispered again as he gently raked his fingers through the short hairs at the back of Jensen's neck, soothing him. The soft stroking was oddly comforting and soon enough Jensen was smiling, the corner of his eyes crinkling happily as Misha stroked his cheekbone, playfully fiddling with his stubble. "You go through a traumatic event and somehow end up comforting me. You're pretty brave, you know that?"

"What did you expect? I _am an angel,_ after all."

"Yes, yes you are," Jensen agreed easily, making the good side of Misha's mouth curve into a half smile. "And pretty boy angels need pretty jewelry. So whadda say we head out and pick you up another ring tomorrow?" Misha always loved the grin that covered Jensen's face when he would tease him. It showed how comfortable they were around each other.

Maybe even _too_ comfortable.

The brunette nodded fervently as Jensen patiently waited for an answer. "I think that would be wonderful," he said half sarcastically, but also sincere. Jensen's toothy grin eventually began to fade away into a much calmer, serene smile, earning him a curious look from his best friend. Misha was about to ask him what was up, but before he could get the words out he found himself being moved from Jensen's lap to lying flat on his back against the mattress. The brunette watched with a puzzled look as Jensen scooted farther down the bed. Lying flat on his stomach and using his elbows to keep himself propped upright, Jensen glanced up at him through his eyelashes. If it had been anyone else they might have thought he looked innocent, but Misha knew better than that. "Let me take care of you," Jensen said as his hands began to travel up Misha's thighs, instantly sending shivers of pleasure to Misha's flaccid cock.

"Jen, I don't think now is the best time...-" Misha started to protest as he reached down to bat his hands away. Even though he was alright physically, (in a sense that all the necessary body parts needed for a certain act were functioning,) Misha was still exhausted and wasn't sure he'd be able to perform at 100%. Jensen quietly shushed him and then grabbed both of his wrists, gently pushing them down to his sides so his palms were flat against the bed. "It's okay, baby. Just relax. I'll make you feel good."

Misha watched with slight reluctance as Jensen reached the waist band of his pajama bottoms and carefully tugged down the elastic, freeing Misha's barely half hard member from its polyester confines. Misha almost felt the need to look apologetic, but then he was reminded that it was Jensen who had insisted on pleasuring him. The older man had no doubts that Jensen would be able to get him all hot and bothered; it was just going to take a little more coaxing than usual.

Jensen showed no signs of being discouraged as he pushed up Misha's shirt and leaned down to place a delicate kiss just below his belly button. He then began to nibble along Misha's perfectly shaped pelvic bone, earning a happy sigh of approval from above. "Tell me if anything hurts," Jensen whispered against his hip before his lips started heading south. Misha let out a soft groan as Jensen wrapped his hand around his cock and started pumping in a slow, rhythmic manner. The two of them hadn't done anything really sexual since their first night together. Other than a few stolen kisses behind the scenes and some lingering hugs, things between them hadn't really changed.

Misha knew Jensen had a hard time coping with the fact that he had cheated on his wife. Misha felt terribly guilty for being the main influence behind the cheating and had even tried apologizing for being so. But Jensen had quickly dismissed his guilt with a kiss on the temple and a brilliant smile that somehow made everything seem better. Why Jensen had chosen now of all times to get frisky, Misha couldn't comprehend. Maybe he was just feeling sensitive because of what happened. Or maybe this was comforting to him somehow? Who knows? Misha wasn't too interested in asking anyway. He was enjoying the attention, no matter how achey his body might feel, Jensen's plump lips brushing over his skin and his hand rubbing sensually up and down his shaft was enough to make Misha's head swim.

How was it possible that 10 minutes ago he was ready to completely fall apart, and now he felt totally at ease? The answer, of course, was Jensen. Like a super power, the taller man had managed to calm him down. It was so effortless. Misha was actually jealous he didn't posses the same ability. It would have made raising his kids a hell of a lot easier.

Jensen's tongue flicked out of his mouth and licked a patch of skin at the beginning of Misha's treasure trail. The brunette shuddered and started to fidget, eventually deciding to use his own hand as a solid pillow to keep his head up. Jensen blew cool air onto the same spot causing Misha's muscles to contract and goosebumps to rise on his belly. Green eyes looked up at him then, obviously enjoying the reactions he was getting. "Close your eyes," Jensen advised him with a sudden twist of his wrist. Misha absentmindedly nodded and did as he was told, only now realizing that he was fully hard and ready for more.

Jensen could be heard shuffling around on the bed before making himself comfortable between Misha's legs. It was a little nerve wracking not being able to see what he was doing, but Misha trusted him more than anyone in this entire world. If he had to put his faith in someone, it would always be Jensen.

Not a second later the tip of Misha's cock was engulfed in a wet heat that set every nerve in his body on fire. "Oh, _fuuuuck_ ," Misha groaned as Jensen's tongue swirled around the head, poking and flicking the sensitive skin. "Shit, if I had known you were gonna do this... I should get mugged more often." Jensen, (being the fucker that he is,) decided it would be a good idea to chuckle with Misha still in his mouth. The vibrations from his throat made Misha's toes curl and fingers dig into the sheets. "Didn't anyone ever tell you... not to talk with your mouth full?" Misha forced out through gritted teeth, beads of sweat beginning to form on his brow as the pleasure started taking full affect on his overly sensitive body.

Jensen rolled his eyes in a huff which Misha missed because his own eyes were still closed. He then inhaled sharply through his nose and slowly took in Misha's cock one inch at a time. Misha hissed and bit his lip, silently cursing his own lack of self control. Once Jensen relaxed his throat, Misha's dick could slide in with little resistance. Misha felt like his lower half was melting as Jensen started bobbing his head up and down, dragging his tongue along the underside of his penis as he pulled back, eliciting a brutal groan from the man below him. " _Oh_ \- okay... I get it. Shutting up now..." Jensen hummed to show his approval.

A full minute went by where no words were exchanged between the two of them. With his eyes closed, all of the sensations Misha had been feeling seemed to increase the pleasure tenfold. The combined feeling of Jensen's mouth dragging along his cock and the naughty, wet sucking noises coming from bellow had Misha digging his heels into the bed and twisting the bed sheets between his fingers.

What had he been upset about again?

Jensen's pace gradually slowed down as Misha began to throb in his mouth, indicating he was getting close. Jensen slid his mouth off of Misha with a silent pop and quickly replaced it with his hand. He started stroking him again when Misha finally opened his eyes and looked down at him, pupils dilated and mouth slightly open. "Wh- why'd you stop?" Misha puffed through rosy cheeks. Jensen didn't answer right away. He looked oddly bleak for someone who had just been going to town on another man's dick. "I know this hasn't been easy on you..." Jensen started quietly, again, strangely timid for someone with a dick in their hand. "After everything going on at home and now— _this_. I wanted to help you, not hurt you more."

"Jensen—" Misha certainly did not want to get into this right now, especially while he was on the edge of pleasure. He figured Jensen was purposely pulling him back each time he got too close to keep the conversation going. "I know you're probably angry and really confused, but I just want you to know that whatever this thing is between us, I don't regret it. Not for one second." Misha didn't know if he was hearing Jensen properly. (He couldn't really trust his ears right now. All the blood in his head was quickly rushing to his groin.)

Could it be true? Did Jensen really not have any regrets about sleeping together?

"I have a hard time believing that," Misha eventually grumbled, mostly to himself. "I know. At first, so did I. To be honest, I don't know what the hell I'm doing."

"What you're doing is being an asshole." Misha looked down at Jensen's hand expectantly earning him a breathy chuckle from Jensen in response. "Just wanted you to know," Jensen snickered before increasing the pace of his stroking. Misha exhaled loudly as he felt his balls start to tighten with the need for release. "Know what?" he asked in a barely coherent daze. Jensen's face softened before he whispered, "How much I love you," and grabbed the back of Misha's hand. Before Misha could even think of an intelligent response or the repercussions of his confession, Jensen's mouth was on him again, sucking with vengeance. "F-fuck! Dammit, Jensen!" Misha couldn't hold back any longer, and even though he desperately tried to, he had a sneaking suspicion Jensen wanted him to lose control. " _Jen!_ " Misha jerked and bent forward as he came hard, white light flashing behind his eyes as he moaned pathetically into the quiet hotel room.

Jensen caught everything in his mouth and swallowed all his co-worker had to offer without a second thought.

As Jensen crawled back up the bed to kiss him thoroughly on the mouth, Misha noticed the huge bulge straining against his jeans. The brunette reached out to touch him, but he was suddenly stopped by another hand. "Tonight's supposed to be about you. Don't worry about me. I just want you to be happy." Misha made a grumpy noise in the back of his throat before reaching up and grabbing the back of Jensen's head. He pulled him down into a viciously passionate kiss, taking full advantage of Jensen's momentary surprise to explore every crevasse and cranny of his mouth.

Misha let go and smirked as Jensen pulled back, cheeks flushed and lips swollen. "What would make me happy is you fucking me until I forget all the horrible shit that happened today." Jensen seemed taken aback by how bold Misha's statement was and could only awkwardly clear his throat in response. Misha groaned and rolled his eyes before flipping over onto his stomach and pulling his pajama pants down the rest of the way. "Fuck me," Misha deadpanned, figuring Jensen needed it spelled out for him. Jensen's breath hitched in his throat as Misha pushed back against his groin. "Waiting," Misha teased in a sing-song voice. Jensen lightly shook his head to clear his thoughts and then smirked before reaching down to undo his belt buckle. "You are one cheeky bastard, you know that?" Misha found himself grinning as he felt Jensen's heat pressing into his backside. "It doesn't matter. You already said you loved me, remember?"

Misha felt Jensen's burning cock poke against his twitching hole, (now apparently wet from Jensen’s spit,) and his entire body shuddered in delightful anticipation.

Jensen urged Misha to crawl onto his knees and stick his ass up in the air for better access. "Breathe," Jensen instructed as he lined himself up and started applying pressure through his hips. Misha did as he was instructed and inhaled sharply through his nose as Jensen pushed into him, passing through the tight ring of muscle until he was balls deep in Misha's heavenly tight passage. "Fuck, Misha. You're so tight." Jensen rested his forehead against the curve of Misha's spine as the man below him squeezed his eyes shut and dropped his face into the pillow, breathing heavily through his mouth. "You okay? Does it hurt?" Misha quickly shook his head, annoyed that Jensen was treating him like some kind of glass doll and pushed back, encouraging him to start moving.

Jensen couldn't stop the frown from spreading across his features as Misha continued to egg him on with the wiggle of his hips and the moans coming from his throat. Jensen wasn't born yesterday. He knew Misha well enough to know this was exactly how he acted when trying to hide his true feelings. All the sarcasm and overcompensating, it was all an act. He should have known that releasing a little sexual tension wasn't going to be enough to fix the mental scar left on Misha's mind. Jensen had hoped it would be, and apparently Misha was hoping the same thing, but deep down Jensen knew Misha couldn't really believe that would solve all his problems.

 _He must be desperate_ , Jensen thought with a depressed sigh before snapping his hips forward in a thrust. Misha let out a pleased grunt as Jensen's hips set into an easy rhythm, not too fast, but deep enough to hit that sweet spot that drove Misha wild. The last thing Jensen wanted to do was put too much strain on his body and tire him out. Even if Misha claimed to be strong enough to handle it, to Jensen, it just wasn't worth the risk.

The green eye'd man was actually a little surprised that Misha was so receptive to physical contact from another person, a man especially. Hadn't he read somewhere that victims of assault sometimes cower away from contact with other people? Even if that were true, it definitely didn't sound like Misha. This was the same guy who blatantly grabs Jensen's ass during a photo op or squeezes a fan so tightly that they can't breathe. Almost nothing could hold Misha Collins back from being himself.

Sometimes there would just be a few bumps in the road to slow him down.

"Wanna see you," Jensen panted before turning the older man onto his back and pushing back inside him. Misha lifted his arms and wrapped them around Jensen's shoulder blades as the knot in his stomach slowly began to creep up on him again. Each time Jensen hit Misha's prostate, an electric shock went straight to his dick, making every nerve feel tingly and the hairs stand up on his arms and neck. Their breathing picked up as the two of them rocked against each other, both wanting to lose themselves to the pleasure pulsing through their veins.

Jensen used his elbow to keep himself propped up before reaching out and rubbing his fingers adoringly through Misha's sweat-dampened hair. For a minute all he did was stare at the beautiful man writhing beneath him, as if to remind himself once again that Misha was alright. He was here with him.

 _He was safe_.

Jensen silently thanked any out of this world being for protecting Misha and bringing him back to him.

Losing Misha wasn't an option. Maybe, Jensen realized with a start, it never really was. Even before they got involved romantically. Maybe even before Jensen himself realized what could come of knowing this bizarrely wonderful man. It seemed something out there just knew that Misha was always going to end up as a vital part of Jensen's everyday life. It brought them together, after all, and although there were plenty of complications, Jensen couldn't bring himself to be angry. He had done regrettable things, sure, betraying his wife being the most obvious, but even so, Jensen would do it all again in a heartbeat. Maybe he had just turned into a selfish bastard somewhere along the line. But right now he and Misha were closer than they had ever been. There was something special between them, something that couldn't be broken or ripped apart by their many mistakes.

To quote a very wise angel, they share a more _'profound bond'_.

Misha let go of Jensen to reach down and grab his now aching cock pressed in between them. He started jacking himself off in rushed, erratic movements. "Close," Misha grunted into the curve of Jensen's neck. Jensen kissed his cheek and nuzzled the scratchy stubble lining his jaw as his thrusts started to lose their rhythm and become more inconsistent with his approaching orgasm. "That's it. Just let go. Come for me, baby," Jensen whispered heatedly into his ear.

Misha's breath hitched and his legs clamped down around Jensen's lower back as he came again in hot, sticky strings over his hand and stomach. Jensen followed soon after, stilling and letting out a low groan as he filled Misha up. Jensen caught himself before he could collapsed on top of Misha and rolled off to the side, earning a quiet hum from Misha as he slipped out of him with a wet pop. "Fuck... you..." Misha huffed while trying to catch his breath again. Jensen raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "I admire your impressive libido, but I'm gonna need at least another 20 minutes before the next round."

"I already felt like shit. Now I'm sweaty and gross and too damn tired to take a shower." Even though Misha was complaining as he glared down at his soiled stomach, Jensen couldn't help but smile at him. "Hang on. I'll clean you up."

"You bet your sweet ass you will..." Jensen heard Misha grumble as he shifted on the bed to get into a more comfortable position. Jensen pulled himself out of bed and hurried into the bathroom to grab a damp washcloth. When he came back into the bedroom, Misha's eyes were closed and the blankets were still pooled around his feet, obviously not wanting to cover himself while he was still dirty. Jensen flopped back into bed and gently cleaned Misha off before throwing the cloth somewhere behind him and pulling up the sheets.

Jensen curled into Misha's side and just watched as Misha's lips parted ever so slightly and his breathing evened out into quiet little snores. Jensen pressed his lips into Misha's bicep, just barely a kiss, before resting his head on the sleeping man's chest. Sleep slowly took away his consciousness, but Jensen could have sworn he heard Misha whisper something into his hair. Jensen smiled to himself, barely aware of the action as his eyes fluttered closed and he whispered back, "Love you too, Mish... Always..."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading everyone! Comments and Kudos are greatly appreciated. ^_^


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